


Team Red

by Earthiana



Series: Watch out, Everybody, I'm blind Matt Murdock! [10]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Deadpool (2016), Doctor Strange (2016), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Autism, Blind Character, Blindness, Canon Disabled Character, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Child Soldiers, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Dice the Devil-dog, Dogs, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Hurt Matt Murdock, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Matt Murdock Angst, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt cuddles everyone, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Schizophrenia, Sensory Overload, Service Dogs, Stick is an asshole, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, super senses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earthiana/pseuds/Earthiana
Summary: The Man Without Fear. The Merc' with a Mouth. Your Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man. The Astonishing Ant-Man. They're recruiting.ORMatthew Murdock's interest is sparked when he gets a call about a recently blinded mutant who just so happens to wear red.





	1. Recruitment

The purple explosion is life changing. In a split second, this clash of violets has changed everything in a dazzling mist of light. A big, purple ‘fuck you’ from the universe. The playing card has ripped into thousands of tiny shards, glistening in the orchid mist. A galaxy of paper stars and exploding clouds of energy.

Then it disappears in an instant.

The screams, harrowed in their broken vocalisation, catch Rogue’s attention.

“Remy?” She calls, wobbling to her feet. The playing card, charged with kinetic energy, had been pierced in his hand, exploding like a handheld grenade, shaking everyone in the immediate radius.

Rogue looks up from her fallen foe at Remy, screaming and clutching his face.

“No! It burns!” He wails when Rogue stumbles closer, across uplifted debris. Splintered trees and dirt clumps provide a slower route to her friend when it becomes apparent that her head is bleeding and the fight left her aching all over.

“Alex!” Rogue screams past the burning forest, searching the growing smog for the other mutants. “Bobby! Someone help!”

Rogue, pulling on her gloves (even as the second insists on catching around her trembling fingers), drops in the lumpy dirt beside Remy, throwing her arms around him. “Remy, relax, I’ll get help.”

“No, my eyes—” Remy grimaces, teeth grinding as his jaw locks. “I can't see.”

  


“Wade, I swear, I’m going to shrink you if you ever fly like that again!” Scott screams as he flops out of the Quinjet and onto the well-tamed lawn of the X-Mansion, sprawling onto the grass. “Sweet green, how I’ve missed you.”

Matthew Murdock tilts his head to the opening of a heavy wooden door but pays mild attention to it. More closely, he listens to his childish companions.

“No need to yell, he’s our only pilot.” Peter points out, albeit as he drags Wade away from the vehicle kicking and clawing. “Even if it is Wade.”

“I can fly!” Matt objects, crossing his arms. He struts down the metal ramp, quite confident that flying the Quinjet would be easy. A wide, open expanse of air with nothing to bump into – what more could Matt want? “Clint showed me how.”

Scott whips his head around to Matt, mouth ajar in horror at the very thought. His fingers fumble with the grass, breathing in the thick scent of freshly cut greenery.

“No way in all that is—Hey, ‘Fessor! How’ya doing?” Scott waves up at the unamused telepath from the grass.

The sleek wheelchair sits easily on the level grass, closely enough to garner the attention of even Wade and Scott. Peter and Matt (not so easily distracted from their surroundings) were immediately aware of their audience. Professor Charles Xavier sits before them, primed to deal with any rowdiness from the young men.

As the oldest of Team Red (excluding Wade, who will forever be a child), Matt sets himself the task of keeping his friends in line. After all, they are his guests. And he’s Charles’ guest.

Naturally aware of the unspoken leadership, Charles glances to the redhead in question.

“Matthew.” Charles assesses the scratches on the Quinjet mildly from where Wade levelled several trees. “Quite the entrance.”

“Sorry.” Matt scratches his head, then hops from the jet onto the grass beside Scott, pulling Ant-Man to his feet. “No-one trusts me to fly.”

“Rightly so. I do not believe shadowing Clint constitutes as him teaching you.” Charles raises his eyebrow, looking between the four men. “Introductions?”

“Ah, this is Scott Lang.” Matt pats his friend on the back. “Ant-Man, he shrinks.”

Matt chases over to Peter, breaking his grip on Wade and moving him a step further away from the other man. “Peter – Spidey – human spider, blah blah blah.”

“Actually, I can only climb, I have to use web shooters for—” Peter starts but Matt is already stepping towards Wade, interrupting him in his conversation with himself. Sometimes he faces in a certain direction to talk to himself, sometimes referring to “boxes”, but, recently, he’s been talking about “bold” and “italics” which… Matt doesn’t ask.

“This is Wade—” Matt is quickly interrupted by the other man, who sees it fit to introduce himself.

“Professor X! My man, gimme five!” Wade jumps towards the professor, offering his hand. Charles hesitantly obeys, watching the masked man carefully.

_Tough crowd. ___

__**One person is hardly a crowd.** _ _

__“Don’t forget the readers.” Wade points out, turning away from Charles. “Trilogy, I like. More me, so what can go wrong?”_ _

__**Great point, Wade.** _ _

_Yup, I agree! This is going to be great! I wonder if there’ll be any hot fangirls in this story?_

__“This is Wade. He does that often. Don’t worry about it.” Matt clears his throat at Charles while Wade starts chatting animatedly to himself. Charles, overall, seems both intrigued and very, very confused._ _

__Matt follows Charles several steps away from his friends, resting one hand on the back of his neck._ _

__“You called last night about a student?” Matt recalls, turning his left ear towards the mansion curiously. “Has anything changed?”_ _

__Charles’ expression darkens. His chair seems to stutter in its movement, or perhaps it is Charles’ hand on the control._ _

__“I’m afraid not.” Charles frowns. His breathing slows as he continues on his path to the mansion. Matt notices the slight tilt of his head, indicating the man’s eyes are tracking him. “Truly, I did believe your somewhat _determined_ nature would provide helpful with Remy.”_ _

__“He’s stubborn like me, then.” Matt sneaks a grin before frowning. He moves behind Charles, switching sides when he finds the rooms on his left receding. Somehow, it seems preferable that Charles is closer to the various rooms. Closer to his students, in Matt’s mind. It’s easier to focus on one his left, blocking out all the unnecessary, than to do a 360 degree scan. “Charles, I’m blind but I’ve always had my senses to help me. I’m not sure how much I can do.”_ _

__Charles doesn’t reply but his confidence in Matt speaks volumes when there’s no hesitation in leading him to “Remy’s” room._ _

__Matt lowers his head to the older man, frowning intently. “But I’ll try, I promise. Anything for a friend.”_ _

__Charles nods his head shortly, a polite smile merging with a grimace in a distorted rendering._ _

__Professor Xavier leads Matt to the mansion doors. The left opens easily, Logan holding it open for Charles to pass through. Despite seeing Matt (and Matt knows Logan likes him, if only a little), his permanent scowl doesn’t waver._ _

__“Can you deal with those three for me?” Matt smiles sweetly, leaning in to whisper. “Wade’s Canadian, too.”_ _

__Logan raises his eyebrow and Matt figures the X-Men aren’t in the greatest moods. Probably because… well…_ _

__Along a short hall towards the infirmary, Charles pauses outside a close door. He turns in the wide hall, facing Matt quietly. His mouth opens but he must decide against speaking because his anxious heartbeat leads him along the rug and around the corner._ _

__Matt turns to the door, then twists the knob, pushing it open._ _

__A hurried heartbeat startles Matt immediately, as does the floral scent wafting around the new man. Two pinpoints of odour center themselves like a pair of glowing eyes in the dark scope of the room. Around which, a perfumed mist reaches for Matt’s nose._ _

__“Hello?” Mutters the uncertain voice, the accompanying heartbeat jittering worriedly._ _

__“Hello.” Matt replies with a short wave. Entering the room, he closes in on the bed, hovering over the man with a friendly smile._ _

__“I’m Matthew Michael Murdock and I hear you have a red costume.”_ _


	2. Bullets

“Hi!”

Logan briefly looks up to see Wade speaking in a random direction, looking cheery.

“Random? Pfft! I’m talking to _you_!” Wade explains, waving his arms around, trying to garner attention. “So I’m Wade but you know that. I’m betting old man Logan isn’t going to bring you up to speed, so let’s get this over with.”

_Ooh! Like that movie with Wolverine and even-older-man Xavier! Good one, us! What was that called again…?_

**Logan.**

“Shuddup, Brain, I’m trying to do a thing.” Wade rolls his eyes under the mask, swatting at the air laxly. “First, I guess I should introduce my brain. This one’s Italics and he’s Bold.”

_Heya!_

**Hello.**

“But, back to the plotline.” Wade furrows his brow, rubbing his chin. “Matty’s been called to our neighbours’ hideout to speak to a mutant after a canon-event which was featured in, like, one comic and no-one really cared about, happened. We’re elaborating.”

“Your friend’s elevator go all the way to the top?” Logan grunts at Peter, who immediately squirms in discomfort. Matt did explain that there would be X-Men in the mansion but talking to THE Wolverine in person is much more intimidating than he’d imagined.

“Not really.” Scott replies, patting Logan on the shoulder in his fearless manner.

“This is technically after the lovey-dovey sap our author wrote – which I was _barely_ in, BTW – but Danny is off in his magical pixie fairyland so you can imagine it doesn’t exist. Straight from VT to the very best Team Red and our rad adventures!” Wade proclaims, lifting a triumphant finger.

_Wowie, Deadpool, I wonder how many cute OFC’s we’ll get to meet?_

**You never know with this author, Italics, fangirls tend to be unpredictable.**

_Huh?_

“I think what he means is…” Wade creeps closer to Logan, who stares at the red-clad man with a glowering expression. Logan evidently doesn’t expect Wade to throw himself over the other mutate in a tight hug, even after he unsheathes his metal claws. Wade breathes heavily around the blade in his gut but otherwise revels in the bro-hug. “Slash. All the slash. Maybe even a bit too literally.”

_Oh, no, Matt’s going to give us his sad ducky face! He told you not to do this shit._

**I suggest a swift and dramatic exit.**

Wade moans in pain when Wolverine removes his claws, staring hopelessly at the bleeding idiot before him. Wade reaches into his pocket, grinning through his mask as he presses his shotgun to his temple.

“Bam!” Wade shouts enthusiastically before pulling the trigger.

  


“Wade, wake up.” Matt’s pretty face stares down at him with concern.

_We used to look that good._

**Goat. Goat. Goat tree farm goat goat goat.**

_Uh, Deadpool? I think we killed Bold!_

Wade lets out a long, dramatic moan that was probably supposed to sound more sexual and less pained than it came out.

“What did I tell you about shooting yourself in the head?” Matt scolds him but doesn’t rush to sit him up, clearly dissatisfied with Wade’s current progress.

“Wassat ‘bout goats?” Wade slurs, slapping Matt’s face when he reaches out to touch it. “’E got me first, I pew pew ‘cause faster. Sleepy time.”

_HOW DO YOU PERFORM CPR? BOLD’S THE SMART ONE, HOW DO I—wait, he’s just a thought. My bad._

**Don’t do that again.**

_Bold!_

Wade rubs at his eyes, shaking his head from the daze he’s finding himself in. “Matt?”

“There’s still blood in your brain, give it another few seconds.” Matt presses him back down, squeezing his hand.

“Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Matt, and never let go of that promise.” Wade breathes out, drawing Matt’s hand to his chest. The back of Wade’s hand rests on his forehead as he pretends to die.

“Stop fooling around, you’re bleeding all over me.” Matt scolds, pulling his hand back. He promptly wipes redness off of his hand and onto Wade’s suit. “I’m supposed to be with Charles right now.”

“Fine, fine.” Wade sits up, wiggling his head around. No lightheadedness, that’s a plus.

“Matt, did you meet him?” Peter pipes up from the far wall, crawling around near what Matt figures is a painting of some sort. “Is he nice?”

“He’s recently lost his sight, Peter.” Matt explains. “He told me to leave, but I’ll try again later.”

“He didn’t yell at you or anything?” Scott frowns, glaring along the corridor.

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Matt assures his friend. “We can meet him at dinner if Wade gets himself cleaned up first.”

“We’re having dinner?” Wade asks, shifting into a cross-legged position. He tugs Matt’s sleeve, tilting his own head. Unlike Matt, he exaggerated features are more to do with overcompensating for his mask, rather than being an adorable duckling. “Team Red, too?”

_Won’t we have to lift our mask to do that?_

**It seems so.**

Matt listens curiously to the frantic beating in his friend’s chest before tracking the gloved hand that reaches for his gun.

“No, stop it.” Matt kicks the thing away, pinning down Wade’s hands. “What’s the matter?”

“What’s up, Doc?” Wade giggles.

“Wade, is this about your mask?”

“I look like a mouldy avocado.” Wade states bluntly, reaching up with his foot to push at Matt’s chest. This is the kind of uncool conversation he doesn't want to have in front of his team. “An ugly, mouldy avocado.”

“No-one will care.” Matt lowers his voice to a serious note, reaching for the mask.

It hurts his heart a little that Peter and Scott‘s hearts lurch at the sight of Wade, even if their bodies don’t respond. It takes a little getting used to, Matt figures, he has an unfair advantage.

“You’re blind, you can’t care.” Wade corrects him, waving a knife around in the air.

Quite confused as to which compartment Wade got the blade from, he takes it away instantly, stashing it in his jacket pocket. “Put it this way, I don’t care that you smell like a mouldy avocado, do I?”

“Yes, you do.” Wade sticks out his tongue, reaching for his mask. Matt allows him to take it back but he doesn’t give it to the other man, hoping the action will convey his stance.

“Wade, sit at the table and eat if you feel hungry.” Matt tells him. “I’ll punch anyone who bothers you.”

“Even if it’s us?” Scott chooses that moment to grab Wade in a headlock, shoving them both onto the ground while he’s at it.

“Can I punch Scott?” Peter raises his hand up high like the perfect schoolchild.

“He’ll punch you back.” Matt warns, smirking as Peter slowly lowers his hand. The last time they sparred, Peter found out Scott packed a bullet-sized punch.

“Let’s go meet Remy, h’m?”


	3. Etiquette

The table stills when Remy enters, clutching the arm of Charles’ wheelchair for guidance as he makes a feeble attempt at navigating with his new cane.

Wade plays with his butter knife, muttering something about the table being mahogany as he strokes the wood in contemplation. He’s seated at Matt’s left, cuddling into his arm affectionately as he wiggles the knife as if showing Matt, then motions throwing it at the basket of bread.

“Afternoon, Remy!” Matt chirps, one foot tucked under his backside as he sits patiently at the dining table. “I’m Matt, remember? I’m on your left and this is Peter on your right.”

Matt makes his way through introducing Team Red, receiving only a grunt and a slight blush in response.

“Fork at your left, knife at the right; glass diagonally in front to the right; bread plate and knife diagonally in front to the right. Napkin under your fork.” Matt zooms through the table settings, then taps happily on the table. “Charles told me you speak French?”

Remy turn his head to Matt, then must decide against responding because he slumps in his chair, trying to find a place to rest his cane.

“I speak French!” Wade exclaims excitedly. “But I’m Canadian and we’re practically British-French.”

  


Charles wins over the favour of Team Red when a couple of pizzas are set on the table, early awaiting a couple of hungry mouths.

Wade loses all hesitation and lifts the bottom half of his mask up, bunching it around his nose.

Peter and Scott continue scoffing pepperoni pizza while Wade licks his lips at a Hawaiian, pineapple-coated slice of Heaven.

“Oh, it’s a moment on the lips and a lifetime on the…” Wade trails off, ducking his head. The funny voice is gone and he bites into the pizza, chewing lacklusterly when he notices a few people staring.

Matt reaches up, takes off the rest of the mask. Wade kicks him under the table but Matt ignores it, focusing his attention on the others, daring the X-Men to speak.

“Hips.” Raven finishes for him across the table, bending over for a slice of her own.

Matt squirms when her skin rips apart and pieces itself back together again. The sound of tearing flesh always makes him cringe. Then, Matt becomes painfully aware of how Raven is supposed to look right now and he tries to stop Wade before it’s too late but—

“Wow, Mama.” Wade wiggles his eyebrows (or, rather, the space where they should be) and leans forward, one arm propping up his head. “Name’s Deadpool, perhaps you’ve heard of me? Star of the fanfic you’re currently in? Wanna make out?”

Something Matt can only describe as fury raises up in Charles’ chest.

“That’s Charles’ sister.” Matt grinds out, kicking Wade back under the table. Raven has no such reaction and, instead, blows Wade an exaggerated kiss.

  


“What’s your deal?” Remy asks mid-pizza slice when the other X-Men are engrossed enough in conversation not to notice.

“My deal?” Matt frowns in curiosity. 

“You’re weird.” Remy accuses, stuffing pizza into his mouth in what Matt can only describe as a grumpy manner.

“Then being weird is fun.” He shrugs, eating the pineapple off of his pizza, too eager to wait.

  


Remy listens quietly as the last few X-Men leave the dining table. Charles was the first to go, usually busy, and he is the last, sitting silently beside the empty pizza boxes. Now free of watching eyes, he reaches for the cane at his side. He’s not exactly good with it (he keeps forgetting to move it around and not just hold it like an idiot) but he takes it anyway.

The X-Mansion is big, so he’s not surprised when he finds a wall he didn’t expect to be there, inevitably lost. The nearest corridor (a spin helps him in finding it) is the way to go.

“Wade!”

Remy stops dead in his tracks, immediately unsure at the sound of Matt’s voice. He can’t run, though, not blindly.

There’s the scuffling of boots.

“You smell different.” Matt accuses from the other room.

So they haven’t seen him. What a weird thing to say…

“You mean, not like cancer?” Wade chuckles, trailing off into a short pause. “I’m just thinking – Number 5 doesn’t exactly like us, so let’s skedaddle and pick up some chimichangas on the way to the tower.”

Remy’s brow creases – that doesn’t exactly clear up why ‘Team Red’ wants to ‘hire’ him.

“Wade, you seemed happy to meet Remy.” Matt reasons. “Is this about dinner? Is that why you want to leave?”

“Fuck off, Matt, not everything is about my avocado face.”

“But this is.”

When Wade doesn’t answer, Remy lowers his head. He should leave. This isn’t the kind of stuff he should be listening in on.

Despite being a long term thief, Remy’s reduced to a stumbling idiot. At least, for as long as he’s unable to see.

“I just don’t want to listen to people retching over their food, got it?” Wade snaps, boots stomping against the wood as he makes a small circle. “It’s like your cane and glasses, just something else for people to fucking gawk at.”

“Wade, please.” Matt admonishes the language. “I understand that you’re upset—”

“You don’t understand shit, Matt, looking like a male model and you can’t even appreciate it.”

Remy’s brow furrows. There’s so much he hadn’t noticed about this team. Almost as if they’re strangers, despite the hour at dinner.

“I appreciate it, Wade. I don’t rely on it.” Matt levels his voice, reasoning. “I don’t appreciate being shouted at. Look, Wade, you have scars, just like everyone in this building.”

Wade scoffs.

“I don’t care what your skin looks like. You’re my friend and you’re alive. That’s all I care about.”

Remy shifts to move along the corridor but walks directly into a table, instead, knocking one of Charles’ expensive vases on the floor.

“Shit!” Remy snaps as he hears the smashing of ceramic.

Footsteps into the hall.

“Step back.” Matt warns him, a hand lightly landing on his shoulder. “Don’t hurt your feet.”

“I didn’t see it.” Remy growls, shrugging his shoulder out from Matt’s hand. The other man immediately removes his hand.

“It was an accident. I’ll tell Charles.” Matt says lightly. There’s a small pause before he continues: “Evening walk?”

“Something like that.” He grumbles, shifting his cane slightly behind his legs.

“It’s a nice evening. Sun feels nicer outside.” Matt offers, but doesn’t give Remy time to retort. “Hey, we were going upstairs to have popcorn, you game?”

“Horns, get a clue. He hates us.” Wade sniffs. “We’re just _mutates_.”

Remy scowls. “I hate mutants, too.”

“He’s just misanthropic, like you.” There’s some fighting-like grunts and heavy steps, so Matt might have pushed the other man. “Remy, feel free to join us. We’ll be in my room, m‘kay?”

Remy doesn’t reply.


	4. Sleeopver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sorry for the long wait, I had to rewrite this because it never saved the first time and I just couldn't find any inspiration. I think this turned out better than it was, originally, though, so I hope you enjoy it!

“Wade, stop hogging!” Scott leaps onto his companion, flattening Wade against the couch as he holds the bag of popcorn out of reach.

“Scott, we have six other bags.” Matt raises his eyebrow, lying on his bed, where Peter is swaddled in his blanket.

“Yeah, Matt-o, but this is the only sweet _and_ salted.” Scott pauses to complain, giving Wade the opportunity to empty the leftover contents of the bag over his face, leaving popcorn crumbs over his hoodie and the sofa.

“WADE!” Scott lunges for the other man, brawling like children on the floor.

“Scott, don’t come crying to me if you get hurt and Wade heals himself.” Matt calls out, otherwise ignoring the duo. Instead, he shuffles towards Peter and sneaks his hand into the bowl of buttered popcorn.

“He just ruined the popcorn!” Scott accuses.

Matt smirks, shrugging.

“Remind me why we’re friends with Wade.” Peter stage whispers, elbowing Matt’s arm.

“Wade’s our mascot.” Matt grins, pulling Peter under his arm and messing up his hair.

Everyone looks up at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Matt twists his head, smiling fondly at the sound of Remy’s fluttering heartbeat on the other side of the door.

“Come on in!” Matt calls out, kicking his legs off the side of his bed and resting his head on Peter’s lap, head pointed towards the ceiling. Peter steals his glasses, causing a panic in Matt’s chest that the younger boy quells with a light, brushing hand over his hair.

Remy pushes the door open slowly. He has his cane, but is obviously hesitant to use it when he simply stands in the hall, doing nothing in particular. After a long moment, he traces the floor with the cane, moving inside slowly.

“Bed to your left, Wade and Scott are sitting in front of you, and there’s some empty seats over by the far wall.” Matt gives a quick rundown. Remy isn’t exactly used to being blind yet, so best to be helpful.

Remy finds a chair, thankfully, and shoves a little plush toy off of its seat so he can sit down.

An awkward silence falls over the group which, fair enough. Remy hasn’t spoken with Peter, Wade, or Scott the way that Matt has, and even Matt feels that he isn’t especially trusted yet.

“Well, any good party needs a game of truth or dare.”

  


“Peter, you ever walked in on your aunt doin’ it?”

Peter’s face grows warmer as he starts to blush. Just as he’s about to complain, Matt sends a glare in Wade’s direction. “Don’t taunt him, Wade.”

“Fine! Can I ask one to the group?” Wade sits up, suddenly getting a good idea.

“As long as it’s at least semi-appropriate.” Matt smirks, pawing around the top of the bed for his blanket. Scott migrates towards them, grabbing the blanket for Matt and draping it over him. He then flops onto the bed behind the duo, pleasantly full of popcorn.

“Who would you date in this room if you had to?” Wade seems pretty proud of his question.

“I have a husband!” Matt giggles, but Wade slaps his leg and tells him to answer, anyway.

“Ok, ok.” Matt sighs. He doesn’t think he’d be able to tolerate being in a relationship with Wade or Scott, they’re too excitable. “Peter, I guess. He’s sensible.”

“Aw, thanks, Matt.” The boy pokes Matt in the stomach, causing him to grunt in complaint. “I think Wade, maybe.”

Wade makes a comment about that, of course, but Remy interrupts with one of his own.

“Matt, you’re married?” He frowns curiously, not really knowing what to do with his body. Being unable to see makes venturing into the space before him pretty daunting, so he’s stayed in his chair while the others move about more freely.

“He never shuts up about it.” Scott complains in jest.

“I am.” Matt sticks his tongue out at Ant-Man. “And Danny’s great.”

“He is.” Peter pauses, patting Matt’s arm. Scott seems to agree, however, because he sits up and smiles.

“We’re all really glad you found him, you know, after what happened.” He says hesitantly. “He’s good for you.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him.” Matt chuckles, curling up into a comfortable ball.

“What—” Remy goes to ask, but stops himself.

“I was raped, as a kid, Remy.” Matt explains in a soft voice, aware that he’s likely to make the other man feel bad about asking. “Charles held him here, but Stick killed himself.”

“That old guy?” Remy’s voice lowers. He pauses for a moment before frowning. “Prof’ got Magneto to make him a cell and everything. Everyone was talking about it.”

“Magneto the villain?” Scott sits upright immediately. Peter and Matt both listen attentively, not having known about Magneto.

“They’re old friends with different views.” Remy shrugs it off.

“Are you in a relationship, Remy?” Peter actually asks, this time.

“I don’t do relationships.” He fidgets with his cane, extending it. He’s debating walking out of this room and leaving when Matt speaks up.

“We all have our things, Remy. Mental health issues, abuse, whatever it may be.” Matt moves into a seated position, crossing his legs. “You don’t have to talk about anything and we won’t ask, but you’re in good company.”

Remy doesn’t talk for a while, but his heart seems to calm down.

  


Peter and Matt are the first ones to fall asleep, followed quickly by Wade, who decides to sprawl out over the sofa.

Remy and Scott sit in silence, drinking beer that both of them hate.

“Why’d you join them?” Remy gestures to Matt and Peter, snuggled up beside each other in Matt’s double bed.

“I was in jail, after playing Robin Hood.” Scott takes another swig from his beer. “I was poor. Dirt poor. After my time, the ex wouldn’t let me see my kid, so I knew something had to change. I met Hank Pym.”

Scott smiles at the memory, then glances back at Remy. He doesn’t have glasses, like Matt, so Scott can clearly see his blood-red eyes. The pupil, the iris, the whites – all red and glowing. He’s unsure that it’s to do with the blindness. “So, anyway, after that, I figured I'd try being a super hero. I mean, I had the costume. I had _ants_. I had a compelling back-story, even. And I guess I was doing ok – I was on my own for a little while, the Avengers a couple of times. Just – nothing quite stuck, y’know?”

“Why them?”

“I didn’t have anything big happen to me, y’know, but I felt out of place with Stark and Captain America.” Scott places his bottle down. “I dunno, they’re my friends.”

“What happened to Matt…” Remy starts, but the man in question starts to kick and jerk in his sleep. Matt’s familiar voice starts crying out and there’s the sounds of Scott rushing to the bed. The mattress shifting under his weight. Matt’s fresh sobs as his friend reassures him that he’s safe and that he’s in X Mansion and does he want to see Charles?

“I’m fine, I just—Nightmare.” Matt stammers, sniffing. “Can you—Scott, something soft.”

“Something soft.” Scott repeats. He hurries off somewhere, the sounds of zippers suggesting he might be in Matt’s bags.

But Remy remembers he had felt something soft, so he reaches down to grope the floor and finds the toy he shoved away earlier. He’s not really sure if it’s the kind of thing Matt wants, but he brings it to the bed and offers it out.

“Thank you, Remy.” Matt forces out, sounding breathless. There’s a vague noise of Matt moving back and forth, but the man ignores it in favour of locating his chair once more.

“No prob.”


	5. Goodbye

Wade blinks his eyes open, stretching himself on the sofa. He wanders towards the bed and shakes Peter to wake him up. Matt’s a little more sensitive and, as readily as Wade will admit that he is a dick, he doesn’t want the guy to freak out.

“Matty. Matty. Matt. Matty-poo. Red Batman. Matt.” Wade whispers near his head until Matt extends a languid arm, swatting the air.

“Scott, get up.” Wade makes his way over to the man lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. He grabs a pillow from the sofa, hitting him square in the face with it.

“Yo, Gumbo!” Scott shouts at Remy, watching in pleasure as sleepy eyes around the room look hatefully at him.

“Am I the only one who remembers that Birdy is flying over a new jet to take us home?” Wade stares at the group, deciding that, yes, he is.

_Uh, hey, since when are we the responsible one?_

Matt’s just about to reply when he feels something different in the air. Something feels hot and smells faintly of burning near Remy.

Wade can see the glowing red spreading across the arm of the chair he was sleeping in, He doesn’t seem entirely aware of what he’s doing. “Uh, you’re doing a glowy thing.”

Gambit lifts his hands, hesitating, and the glow starts to seep from the chair.

“We can’t impose on Charles, but you’d be welcome to come and stay with me and the Avengers? Wade’s living with me just now, too.” Matt shrugs. “I mean, there’s still a few things I have to teach you about that cane.”

Remy doesn’t give an answer as he walks from the room, fairly confident in remembering his way around the chairs and out the door.

  


Wade keeps bugging Matt. The redhead turns away from Wade’s incessant talking, scowling at the ground. He’s being too much right now and Matt’s not ready for too much. It’s early and he’s tired and Wade just keeps _talking_.

“Shut up.” Matt snaps, shoving Deadpool’s shoulder away when he leans in, chatting in nothing but a friendly manner.

Wade shoves him back and Matt stands up, throwing his chair to the floor.

“Matt.” Peter says softly, looking at Wade. He gives his masked friend a light pat on the shoulder while Scott hops to his feet, righting the chair.

“Can I touch you?” Scott hesitates but, when Matt gives a stiff nod, he lightly places his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I know Wade’s annoying, but I don’t think he deserved that.”

Matt frowns for a moment, listening to Wade turn his head away and ask Peter when Clint’s supposed to arrive as if nothing happened.

“I know.” Matt deflates, lowering his head. “I-I know.”

“Why’re you angry?” Scott moves him towards his chair and Matt sits down, drawing his feet onto the seat in order to hug his knees. “Was it your nightmare?”

“I don’t know.” They aren’t surprised by the answer; Matt tends to be unsure about why he feels things.

Scott nods, moving back into his own chair. “I’ll tell you how I’m feeling, then, I guess. I think you picked up a good stray and I’m sorta bummed he’s not coming with us.”

Matt shifts, his brow creasing behind his glasses. Scott leans forward, lightly pulling them off in order to see Matt’s face. His expressions are unregulated, which tends to be comical or heart breaking, and it’s moments like this that remind Scott of his daughter, Cassie. Matt’s tough as nails but the guy’s rocking the ‘innocent and precious’ vibe.

“Do you like Remy?” Scott persists, patting Matt’s knee to get his attention, just in case the redhead got distracted. Matt’s face looks vaguely hurt.

“I like Remy.” Matt agrees, fumbling with the sleeve of his shirt. “Sorry, Wade.”

“I get it, Honey Bun” Wade huffs. “I think we should reconsider the four-member rule.”

“That was never a rule.” Matt laughs under his breath.

Scott’s nice and seems to realise that, even if he’s not sobbing, he’s not feeling great. Lang wraps an arm around his shoulders and nods at Peter. “Will your aunt be expecting you home tonight?”

“I can call her.” Peter catches on quickly. “Matt, how about we have another sleepover? I can’t wait to see your dogs again.”

He perks up slightly, a faint smile coming across his face. “Ok, but I haven’t cleaned up.”

“Pfft, have you seen my old apartment?” Wade scoffs, resting his arms on the coffee table.

Matt has. It was straight after Wade shot himself in the head, again, at the tower, unprompted. When his head healed over, the Avengers decided that perhaps one of SHIELD’s psychologists should have a chat with him, make sure he was doing ok.

He wasn’t.

When Matt collected Wade from his apartment, his nose led him to a fridge full of rotting food. There weren’t any bugs, thankfully, but Matt didn’t think it would be long before there were. Dishes were piled up in stacks near the sink, mouldy and permanently stained with the juices of old food. The bathroom was worse, looking as if Wade left the bath running and didn’t bother to clean up the wet floor.

Dust and general waste coated the small apartment in a thick layer, from on top of the TV (a bloody knife) to the floor (laundry).

Now, Wade’s not an idiot. The man seemed embarrassed and almost insisted that Matt just waited outside but the horrid smell of pungent food was too intriguing. He knew it was a bad scenario to live in. Wade’s problem, however, is that he really struggles to keep track of tidying up when he’s having a bad day.

A couple of dirty plates turns into a mountain of filth with no place for Wade to even consider starting – staying in bed was a much better option.

The entire time, chasing shadows.

“You shouldn’t joke about that, Wade.” Peter scolds him. “Do you have any idea how much you freaked us out?”

No wonder Remy wasn’t interested in them. Between them, Matt thinks they might have more issues than the X-Men combined.

  


“Matty, Bud!” Clint grabs Matt in a tight hug the second he sees the redhead on the greens on the X-Mansion. He’s the only one who’s given special permission. Except Danny, but his husband is always particular about making sure he’s ok with things.

Matt appreciates Clint’s hugs, though, even if they have the occasional fight or two.

“Ready to go?” Clint draws back, pulling Matt’s head under his arm.

Matt shifts, enduring the taunting. “Can I fly this time?”

“I don’t think Tony wants you to wreck another plane, even if he can pay for it.” Clint smiles, nudging Matt’s arm. He just kind of stares at Matt, smiling, for a moment.

When the redhead turns around, Clint catches his hand and tugs him back.

“Hi, Clint.” The archer says to himself, ducking his head to look at Matt’s turned face. “I missed you, Clint. ‘Cause I’m your friend and I love you.”

Matt nods.

Clint grins and pats him on the shoulder affectionately.

  


Matt holds up a hand to Clint, just as the man is about to get the Quinjet up and running.

Peter smiles as Scott asks what he’s doing and is ignored. Matt, preoccupied, pushes open the door to the jet and grins at Remy, who is looking quite confused about the whole thing. He has a rucksack stuffed awkwardly under one arm. Matt grins.

“Hop on, then.”


	6. Landing

“This is Remy.” Matt unclips himself from his seat and steadily makes his way to the front of the moving jet, the second he’s allowed to get up and move.

“Remy.” Clint inclines his head but keeps his eyes on the sky while they’re still low. “Well, welcome to the family, Remy.”

“Yeah.” Gambit mumbles, gripping the seat. Heights weren’t so disconcerting when he could see the world flying by. Clint must notice because he gestures to Peter.

“Kid, grab the bucket in the storage cabinet, would you?”

Peter hops up, moving around as easily as Matt. They’re the only ones allowed to move until the jet settles, what with Matt’s knack for staying upright and Peter’s habit of wall crawling. He brings it to Remy, then hesitates. He doesn’t look as if he’d be ok with being touched to get his attention, so Peter places the bucket at his feet, nudging his shoes with it.

“Here you go.” Peter watches Remy reach down, lips quirking upwards into less of a frown, but certainly not a smile. Not Remy.

“Can’t I fly for a little bit?” Matt pesters Clint up front, but the blond just ignores him.

“Did you guys have fun meeting the X-Men?”

God, Clint sounds like a total dad. Matt pouts, scurrying back to the seats. He situates himself between Remy and Scott, crouched on the seat with his knees tucked against his chest.

“Scotty, where’s my bag?” Matt nudges his friend. Scott glances towards Wade, sees it strapped in like another passenger. Scott grins at Wade, who draws back the zip.

“What can I get you, Shades?” Wade shoves around a few things without knowing what he’s looking for.

“My pajamas.” Matt hops off the seat. “Mind if I get changed?”

“Be careful.” Is Clint’s permission; the jet is still climbing, just slightly.

So Wade hands over the shark onesie and Matt strokes the line of fabric teeth brimming the hood before hesitantly taking his glasses off. Lowering his eyes, he hands the red shades to Scott, who holds them carefully as Matt pulls his sweater over his head.

The jeans and jumper are stuffed into his duffel bag once Matt has successfully swaddled himself in his PJ’s. Much better.

  


“Shit, are you kidding me?” Clint mutters, grabbing the attention of his passengers mid-flight.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks curiously, while none of the others are quite comfortable prying on Clint’s phone call. The archer glances over his shoulder, frowning.

“Nothing to worry about. Stark’s working on a little something for SHIELD so I think we’ll have to take a quick walk to the tower.” Clint grimaces. “Might want to get dressed again, Bud.”

  


It’s a sunny day and Matt can’t quite find the energy to redress himself, so he steps out into the big, bad world in all his shark-clad glory and smiles pleasantly at Clint, who is somewhat less pleased by this.

Wade’s in his suit, though, so he thinks it seems fair. Even though that thing has barely any protection (Wade doesn’t need it) and is, therefore, pretty lightweight, Matt has to wonder if he feels stuffy. He can’t smell any sweat, so perhaps not.

“You guys.” Clint groans.

Matt remembers that Gambit is in his long, red jacket and smiles even wider. Scott and Peter are the boring ones.

“Can we stop for food?” Peter’s asking, since they haven’t eaten in hours and he has the diet of Hulk on a bad day.

“Chimichangas!” Wade sticks one finger up in the air, then points it not far left of the tower, where Matt sniffs out Mexican food in the distance.

“Rice sounds nice.” Matt offers, rolling on his heels.

Clint sighs as he turns around. How did picking up his superhero comrades turn into a field trip?

  


“If you’re going to lift it off the ground, don’t make the arc higher than an inch.” Matt advises Remy as he struggles with his cane. “Or just roll it from side to side in constant contact, that’s what I do.”

Remy doesn’t really respond but he does keep the cane on the ground so Matt drops that topic.

“Do you like spicy food?” Matt lifts his hood up, simply because he feels cooler. He turns his head at a couple of passers-by and grins to himself.

“Not really.” Remy replies shortly.

“I do. Spicy or bland and nothing in-between.” Matt specifies. “The tower has lots of food, if you don’t want anything here.”

Matt doesn’t really consider that he might be crowding Remy, who isn’t particularly talkative to begin with, never mind with a new stranger and in these circumstances. Scott’s used to pulling Matt and Wade away from people, though, so he offers Matt a piggy back and they storm into the take-away with beaming grins.

“The chicken smells nice.” Matt says in Scott’s ear. Peter overhears and reconsiders his options.

“Yeah, alright. Team Red, could we hurry because you guys tend to draw some attention.” Clint rolls his eyes. “Last thing I want is a crowd.”

Clint then wonders if this was a mistake, seeing that their food takes longer than expected, but he doesn’t mention it as Wade carries the bag of food, waving it in Peter’s face with a smile behind his mask, marked by the lift in his cheeks.

There’s no distraction, however, and the team (led by Hawkeye) manages to make their way back to the tower without an onslaught of fangirls and boys.

In one piece, for now.


	7. Insomnia

Jarvis is already explained to Remy before they leave the elevator, striding into the communal lounge, so there’s little shock when Matt directs his voice at the walls.

“Who’s in, today, J?”

“Sir and Dr Banner.” The voice-in-the-walls replies politely. “Welcome home, Matthew and company.”

Clint heads off to Tasha’s floor, muttering about a drink, while Matt slumps onto the couch.

“Also, Mr Murdock, there are three missed calls on your personal cell.” Jarvis explains. Matt scrunches up his nose, figuring that he probably should have remembered to bring it. “One voicemail. Shall I identify the private number, or are you expecting a call?”

“Can I hear the voicemail?” Matt sits straighter, drawing his knees onto the couch.

“Matthew Michael Murdock.”

The voicemail cuts off there, with no explanation. Matt tilts his head, then nods at Jarvis’s main speaker. “Let Tony decide, he’ll know what’s best.”

“Of course, Mr Murdock.”

Matt, unworried, gestures for the others to crowd around the coffee table. “Sit, sit! Remy, in case you need any help, Jarvis can explain room layouts in the tower. Or anything you need, Jarvis can provide. He’s super.”

“Why, thank you.” Jarvis pipes up.

Remy walks towards Matt’s voice and hits his leg against the couch, cane identifying it a little too late. Blushing, he checks the seat of the sofa before sitting down with an irritated huff.

  


There’s no word from Tony or Bruce into the late evening, so Matt assumes introductions will be happening the following day.

So Matt goes to bed, finding that there’s no possible way he’ll be able to sleep without something warm beside him.

Dice looks up from his comfy spot at Matt’s side, vaguely annoyed that his owner keeps moving around. His golden-brown sibling stretches two paws into Dice’s face, wiggling onto his side and sticking his head up. Noodle, the most recent addition to their little family, cocks his head, fluffy ears drooping on either side. Noodle prefers Danny (they’re both as excitable as each other, at times), just like Dice prefers Matt. However, Noodle’s doing a great job of keeping Matt company in his owner’s absence.

“Good dogs.” Matt sighs, sitting up unhappily. He twists his feet off the bed and directly into his slippers.

“Can I be of any help, Mr Murdock?” Jarvis asks softly but Matt shakes his head. No need to worry anyone over feeling a bit lonely.

So Matt scurries, shivering at the mere loss of his blankets, into the living space in search of Wade. He can’t smell his friend, so he stands for a moment, hopeless. Wade must be out Deadpooling.

Remy’s here, though.

Matt shuffles as he considers the red-eyed man. Matt knows he’s pushing a bit far to ask Remy – who is essentially a stranger – to snuggle with him.

  


Matt’s close to dozing off on the couch, at a loss for what to do. He’d stared so long in confusion that his eyes streamed tears when Remy wandered into the lounge and spoke to the room.

“Matt, is that you?” His gruff voice might be concerned, but Matt figures it’s just that he wants Remy to be, not that he actually is.

“Yeah.” Matt wipes his face, glad Remy can’t see him either. He knows he’s an ugly crier. Danny calls it ‘expressive’. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“The TV’s not on.” It’s a statement, but he seems to be confirming that Matt’s sitting alone in the dark.

“That’s right.”

Remy doesn’t say anything as the redhead sniffles. As much as Matt tries to keep it quiet, he’s sure Gambit will hear it.

“I was waiting on Wade to come back.” Matt mutters. Remy reacts to that in his chest but Matt’s not sure what the reaction was.

“Nightmares?” Remy isn’t holding his cane, Matt hears as he takes a hesitant step into the room.

“No, I just,” Matt twists his left hand reflexively, “wanted someone to sleep with.”

Remy has a habit of just walking away when he’s made a decision, so Matt has to listen for him walking into _his_ bedroom before he realises that he should be following.

Remy paces himself on the way into the room, feeling the bed with one knee before migrating towards it.

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Remy states, sitting on the bed. Despite having already met Noodle and Dice the second he stepped off of the elevator into Matt’s floor, the golden poodle bounds towards Remy and sniffs him curiously.

So Remy might be a cuddler, Matt considers, but that doesn’t seem very likely.

“I used to share a bed with my brothers.”

Ah.

Matt closes his door and hurries towards his side of the bed, kicking off his slippers before clambering in beside his new friend.

“Well, not blood brothers, just the boys I lived with.” Remy amends, turning over onto his side, facing away from Matt. Well, that’s the end of that, then.

Matt wonders if Remy’s a fast sleeper, as he rests on his bed, or perhaps a light one. There’s no movement from Gambit, but the man seems to only do or say what he wants, nothing more, and nothing less. That must include moving.

“I didn’t have any brothers.”

“I thought you wanted to sleep?”

“I do.” Matt pouts as Remy huffs. Since when was Remy so grumpy?

There’s silence for a moment until Remy shifts. “Your husband won’t mind, right?”

Matt almost giggles. With the amount that Danny drapes himself over Clint nowadays (mainly to irritate the archer, partly because they’re secret friends), he’s better not mind. Matt doesn’t see it being a problem – Danny’s fine with Matt snuggling Tony or Peter or any of his other friends, so this should be ok. Matt’s very tactile.

“He’s the jealous type.” Matt jokes, moving when Dice presses his back into his legs. “Danny’ll like you.”

“Everyone seems to like me.” Remy mutters into the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“That’s a new thing for you, huh?” Matt asks. He remembers that; he was an odd child and a reclusive adult, at the very least. However, Matt seems to find that he makes friends rather easily with people who can accept his quirks. Like T’Challa, Scott, and (hopefully) Remy.

“Go to sleep, Murdock.”


	8. Bickering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of swears, more than usual (in my opinion) but not loads.

“This is Remy and he’s not very talkative but he’s nice and he’s staying with Wade and I.” Matt lists off what he cares to mention about Remy to a very confused Bruce Banner and Tony Stark.

_Matt’s been given free reign of his own floor since he has so many houseguests._

Matt nudges Remy towards Tony and Bruce by another step.

“Say hello.” He whispers.

Matt’s new toy doesn’t seem very likely, unlike the half-naked man in an apron at his right. Wade’s… a character.

“So Remy blows stuff up.” Matt talks more, since Gambit is being troublesome. “And he’s pretty human so no gymnasium.”

“Gumbo’s got a stick up his ass.” Wade summarises, earning himself a firm punch to the arm from Remy, when he reaches out to find it.

“And I think we should have a family dinner to introduce Remy.” Matt grins, wrapping his arm around the mutant’s shoulders. “Y’know – to the family.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Of course Tony would. Bruce looks slightly uncomfortable, but Tony gives his shoulder a light nudge. “We haven’t seen you around in a while, I’ll be fun to catch up.”

“It’s been two days.” Bruce claims lightly.

“As if Matt ever leaves the tower.” Tony scoffs. He dodges the pillow Matt throws at him from the couch, grinning mischievously. “Anyway, one less person since Tarzan left for Voodooland.”

“Bruce makes good tea.” Matt catches on and adds to the coaxing. He messes up Remy’s hair under one hand, gesturing to the doctor. “You should make that herbal stuff that smells like dirt.”

“Fine.”

“Whatever.”

They both answer in sync, looking miserable, but Tony’s grin matches Matt so he doesn’t worry about it.

“How many pancakes are you on?” Matt starts walking to the elevator with Wade, Remy stomping behind them.

“A hundred.” Wade grabs Remy’s hand, then Matt’s, and drags them into the elevator with a hungry smile. “Only 272,044 to go.”

“What?!” Tony whips around as the elevator doors start to push closed. Wade waves his fingers through the gap.

  


“So what was it like having brothers?” Matt’s on the floor, Noodle licking his rough tongue over the redhead’s cheeks. Dice sits near Remy, who is sitting on the couch. They’re both keeping out of the action.

Remy just stares ahead of himself, not replying, so Matt continues talking.

“Because, at the orphanage, the other boys avoided me a lot.” Matt tilts his head away from Noodle, smiling lightly up at Remy.

“Orphanage, Jesus.” Remy leans back against the couch and huffs out a sigh. “Is there anything not fucked up about you?”

Matt winces. “I guess not.”

Remy feels a little bad about that when Matt shuts himself up and pets his dog quietly.

  


“Don’t be a dick to Matt.” Wade comes out with it, blunt and clear, when Matt’s downstairs mingling with Tony and Bruce. Peter (it’s the weekend) looks up from where he’s sprawled out on his back, feet dangling over the far end of the couch.

Remy, not quite willing to have this discussion when he already has this bad feeling in his chest about the whole thing, makes an attempt to ignore Wade. 

He shoves Remy against the wall, quite close to the elevator, and pins him there. “Don’t be a fucking dick to Matt, got it?”

“He told you, then.” Remy turns his head away, not that it makes much difference when he can’t see anything. 

“Shades told me you were upset and I asked why.” Wade clarifies.

Oh, great. Matt’s concerned about him. That’s never something that sits right with him.

“Wade, don’t get handsy.” Peter admonishes, but he has the same disappointed tone Matt adopts from time to time. Great, mini-Murdock.

“Matt is a sprinkle of sparkles and pixie dust, ok, you _don’t make him upset_.” Wade growls, shoving his forearm harder against Remy’s throat.

Upset. Wait – Matt’s upset? When Remy asks, Wade pulls back and laughs. There’s only a second before a fist is making harsh contact with his jaw, turning Remy’s head in the other direction with the force.

“Wade!” Peter hisses. There’s rustling and stumbling footsteps as Peter pulls the other man away. Remy doesn’t move. Hands grope at his head, moving it around as Peter inspects his face, but Remy pushes him away by the shoulder. It’s not violent, but it’s certainly not friendly.

“Wade, you can’t just punch Remy!” Peter shouts, turning on Deadpool. “Even if you’re angry.”

“I don’t need the life lesson, Crawler.” Wade mutters from across the room.

Remy stands in the corner of the room, facing what he thinks is the intersection of the kitchen and the wall of useless windows.

“Matt’s upset?” Peter asks what Remy’s mind has turned to fretting over.

“Not enough to punch him over, I get it.” Wade snaps, and Remy thinks that might be the only apology he gets. It’s more than he deserves.

Matt’s been nothing but kind. Sure, he can be an oblivious idiot with personal space issues, but he’s the spokesman for good intentions.

Intentions are where it’s at.

Thing is, Remy doesn’t apologise. He could just act nicer around Matt for a couple of days, like he does whenever he feels bad, but his inner dialogue suggests that Murdock might not even notice.

Murdock has high expectations in the kind of way a mother would, Remy figures. “You can do it” and all that bullshit.

“He was bein’ sad again.” Wade mutters. Peter seems to understand, even if Remy noticed no discernable change in the redhead’s behaviour. “Moping.”

  


Matt doesn’t suggest movie night, Wade does. Matt wants to go to bed, Peter insists he stays. They’re watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Remy feels somewhat lacking on the ‘being a good friend’ front when they all curl up on the other couch. Remy sits on his own for a movie – trying the niceness thing – but Murdock seems too much in his own head to notice. Idiot. Even if the stupid movie is the last thing he wants to watch.

Remy’s been enduring this film for the past eternity, or so it seems, and he can’t stop thinking about the alphabet. A, abomination. The audio description almost hurts to listen to.

So he’s a little riled up. Maybe a little mad. Matt doesn’t need to ask about his brothers. The problem with Matt fucking Murdock is that he’s pushy. He gets under Remy’s skin, going on and on about the blindness and France and friends – it’s none of his business. Matt doesn’t need to know, he doesn’t deserve to know.

Maybe he deserves to know.

But Remy doesn’t want to talk about being abandoned or stealing pastries or being groomed into a thief. Not to Matt, nor anyone else for that matter. He’s gone his entire life without a Matt, why does he need one now?

“Remy, should I stop the movie?” Fuck Matt and his concern.

They do, despite Remy’s lack of response. Matt wanders over, hovers beside the couch for a moment.

“Peter, Wade, can you give us a minute?” Matt asks in a soft voice. Remy follows their footsteps to the kitchen, then focuses his ears on Matt.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Matt sits on the opposite end of the couch, and there’s the familiar shuffling as he lifts his feet up. “If you have things you don’t want to talk about, then they can go unsaid.”

With that, Matt tilts his head up. “Jarvis, can you play Hercules?”

“Of course, one moment, Mr Murdock.” The polite, British voice responds.

“I was,” Remy’s ready to set out a defence, but gives up, “rude. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Matt smiles – it’s clear in his voice. He twists around in his spot to face the centre of the room. As their talking dies down, Wade and Peter return from the kitchen.

Matt stays on the couch with Remy.


End file.
